


13th Birthdays

by MerMagicAnaLily



Series: Out Past Curfew [3]
Category: Z-O-M-B-I-E-S (Disney Movies)
Genre: 13th Birthday, Comfort, Friendship, Traditions, Trauma, Zombies, brain-eating, non-graphic, these babies love each other so much!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23024152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerMagicAnaLily/pseuds/MerMagicAnaLily
Summary: Eliza explained to Addison what a Zombashihro and Zombashera was, and it’s the rite of every 13 year old zombie in Zombietown. Now see what happened during those 13th birthdays.A look in the life of the rich Zombie culture and traditions of Seabrook.
Series: Out Past Curfew [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1650292
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	13th Birthdays

Bonzo was the first one to turn thirteen of his friends. He beat out his friends by several months, and everyone was buzzing all around Zombietown about his Zombashihro. Personally, he was nervous...no….terrified. He’d seen the older kids go through their own thirteenth birthdays, gone to most of them since he could walk and mumble out the word “daddy” in Zombie Tongue. It was always the same, the first half was the most fun you could imagine. There were trampolines on the streets, almost every front yard was serving a different dish and hosting different games for all ages, and sometimes, they even were able to fix an old projector and play old PlayStation 1 video games projected on the side of a house.

He wasn’t worried about that part of the party his father was planning, along with the rest of Zombietown. He was worried about the closing ceremonies, of sorts. He knew everyone’s eyes would be on him as he did something pretty disgusting. He was worried about what people would think of him, how they would react. He already found out he had a speech impediment when he spoke English, but he could speak perfect Zombie Tongue without stuttering or lisping, making him a bit of a target to the zombie bullies. They tried convincing people to pretend they didn’t now Zombie Tongue around him, but for a majority of the kids in the slum, they thought he was too nice to be subjected to that. Even though his best friends Eliza and Zed spoke English, they would still occasionally speak in Zombie Tongue to him, and always included him in conversations even if he replied in a different language. 

“Bonzo!” He turned and saw Zed jogging his way. “Happy birthday dude, and Grazurih Zombashihro.” 

He grunted an acknowledgement, trying not to throw up at the thought of his party and how it would progress later. 

“Come on, don’t look so down,” he said, trying to cheer up his best friend. “That part is so far away from now dude...now, you’ve got games, parties, and...I may or may not have probably the essence gift for you,” he said, acting cocky. 

“Please,” Eliza said, joining up with them. “You’ve got nothing on my gift. Happy Birthday and Grazurih Zombashihro, Bonzo.” 

“Zliziska!” He hugged her, lifting her off the ground. 

“Wow dude, feeling the love,” Zed put a hand over his heart and played up looking hurt. 

“Sgriz gragur ska zeogrankzuh,” he shrugged, and Eliza started dying of laughter ash he put her down. . 

“I do not need deodorant, Bonzo!” He shouted offended, and Eliza started laughing even harder. 

“Sorry buddy,” she said. “You’re getting your pre-teen BO, and even Axe body spray that works more effectively than tear gas would be better than what’s going on in your pits.”

Zed frowned and sniffed, then decided not to say anything. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t give you your essence gift...might have my pit stink all over it…”

“Zedka groga kalzuh zgruh!”

“Alright, alright, no need to threaten me with death by broken trumpet noise,” he said laughing. “Come on,” he led Bonzo back to his house and opened the garage. “Happy Birthday!” 

Bonzo looked at his gift in awe. Zed had always been pretty good at building things and putting it back together, and he made Bonzo a makeshift DJ mixing table. It was made of pieces of broken video games, TVs, vitrolas, and two boomboxes, but it was clear Zed had spent a lot of time on the table. 

“Grigisk zhurga grusic za?”

“Yeah, because you always seem super into the techno and hip hop whenever it plays on the radio, and you’ve already got an ear for music, so I thought you’d like this.”

Bonzo wiped a tear from his right eye before hugging Zed full on. “Gagrik Agro.”

Zed laughed a little. “You’re welcome buddy. You can put me down now, or I’ll attack you with my natural musk.” 

Eliza looked up and inspected it. “This is really impressive Zed. You outdid yourself. And where did you learn electrical engineering?”

“The Zombie library had a really old book from 1960 explaining it. I mean, a couple of things already sounded outdated, but it’s still accurate, and not too hard for me to figure out how to put some things together, so I gave it a try.” 

“Zed, you know how rare this is for me to say,” she said. “But...you’ve officially blown me away with this. I might even need to come to you for a few things now.”

“Hey, I still can’t code to save my life,” he said. “So you’re still holding your own against me.”

“I’m a lot smarter than you in every other way,” she said. “So I’m not threatened. Especially after you see my gift,” she said, leading them all to her house, where she led him to the backyard. “And Happy Birthday!” She showed a printer assembled of scrap metal, and what looked like was a broken iPad that she put a new screen on herself and added a new backing to it. She also gave him a stylus and glove. “It’s a sticker machine. You draw out your designs here on the tablet, then when you press this button, it prints out as many stickers as you could want, which you can put all over Zombietown. And this printer turns regular paper into stickers through…I’m going to go over your heads explaining this, but basically, I turned a regular printer into a super printer.”

“Agra kzanka kzagaz grezighuzir!” He said, looking at it. He’d be able to make his own custom graffiti tags and stick in anywhere he stood for a second without worried about people catching and interrupting him. 

“I mean, it’s no replacement for murals, but it’s still a great way to get a little color in this place. Plus, next year, I heard from Zeke and Zyllia that they’re thinking of turning over the main events of Mash to us.”

“Zeke and Zyllia said that? They’ve run mash since they were fourteen!”

“Yeah, but now that they’re turning eighteen, they think it’s time to keep the tradition young, and we impressed them with the song and dance we did for Lizzie’s birthday last year,” she said. “They want that vibe for the next few years of Mashes. They especially liked your dancing, Zed, along with Bonzo’s music and art.”

“Oh!” Zed did a cocky spin before high-fiving Bonzo. “Who’s the zombies? We’re the zombies! And we’re gonna be partying it up for the next four years of Mashes!” 

********************

Unfortunately for Bonzo, the sunset came way too soon to his liking, and the streets shifted to add a platform to the middle of the street, and a table with a covered plate. But he knew what was under that plate. He’d seen several other thirteen year olds uncover that plate years before. None of them ever had good reactions to eating from that plate, and he knew he wasn’t going to have one either. 

His father had sat him down from the moment he turned twelve and explained to him the history, the reasoning of doing this, how this was going to remove any last trace of the dying instinct from his illogical zombie brain, and how this was necessary for humans to start accepting them, but that he’d still be seen as a monster. It wasn’t giving into the stereotype or the instinct, it was proving it wrong. 

But at sundown, he changed out of some of his cooler coveralls that he customized to show off his personal style into a plain one he didn’t care about, that would be burned at midnight, then he was led up the steps to the platform. This was his time. 

He’s a man now. 

That’s what his father said. 

A man. 

A zombie man. Who was about to eat his first and only brain. 

He was warned by just about every person he saw. He wouldn’t like it. Which is why he gulped when his father came up onstage, holding his hand out, ready to remove his old, basic Z-Band to put on the updated one for adults, the more complex one every thirteen year old got. 

“Agra zraguk,” he mumbled. 

“It’s okay to be scared son,” his father said soothingly. “After tonight...never again.” Bonzo nodded and soon he heard the Z-Band on his wrist come loose and off his arm. He felt his thoughts slowly shut down. The fear was ebbing, his instincts kicked in. There was nothing in his head but the thought  _ hungry.  _ He purposefully didn’t eat a thing since ten that morning, so that his instincts would focus on the brain in front of him. Yet, his body wasn’t interested in it. He wanted food, real food, but he was called to attention by another man, dad. “Son, eat,” he said gently, yet firmly.

So he did. He was really, really hungry, and his body needed the thing in front of him. As he ate, he saw things. He was Jason Green, a father of three...grandfather of three. He saw the kids growing up, then he saw his wife get Alzheimer’s, slowly forget him, and the pain he felt. He felt every crick in the knee and three consecutive strokes. Then, it all went black, and his heart felt like it was stopping, and every part of his brain reacted violently. 

He had finished the brain when he started to feel like his arms were being ripped apart, away from his body, and his legs were being sawed off. He felt like someone was stabbing at his heart while a monster...a true horror that seems like it was made up of all poison tentacles was wrapping around each of his organs, squeezing, burning, and he opened his mouth but it felt like no sound came out.

It felt like he was in that state for days, but the next thing he know, he was being carried off the platform by his father and Zed, with Eliza following close behind with water. He looked over Zed’s shoulder weakly to see the brand new Z-Band on his wrist, with a screen and everything. Eliza said that this Z-Band could even send texts and make calls, like an extension of his phone once it was paired. But he didn’t care, he was shivering violently as he was set down on the couch and Zed ran to his room for a change of clothes. 

Eliza sat down next to him and held his hand. “Do you need anything from us?” He shook his head, but squeezed her hand. “You...you screamed so loud...I never heard you like that…” he looked at her a little surprised, but mostly tired. “But…” she continued. “You did it. You did the Zombashihro trial. You’re officially a man,” she said. “Hopefully you’ll still be my best friend and total teddy bear?”

He looked at her and gave her a small reassuring smile before resting his head on her shoulder. She smiled softly and rubbed his head soothingly, as Zed came back down and sat on his other side, putting an arm around him. And that’s how Bonzo knew he’d be okay despite what he saw. 

* * *

Eliza was the next one to turn thirteen, and she was dreading her Zombashera. Every time her parents tried to bring it up, she shut it down by leaving and going with Zed to write some music or play some video games with Bonzo. 

Bonzo did look at her worriedly since he knew how it felt, and when he would try to give comfort or advice, she’d blow it off and avoid the subject. She didn’t want to think about what she would have to do. She wanted to pretend like it wasn’t happening. Zed knew that it was unhealthy, but trying to talk Eliza into talking about her feelings regarding her Zombashera was about as easy as catching a cat and turning it into a zombie, completely impossible.

But unfortunately, she woke up on April 10th and wished it was April 11th already. She didn’t want to do this, and throughout the whole day, she dreaded the party, as she could hear it being set up, and decided to hide in her room while she heard all other zombie children having fun. 

Around four in the afternoon, Zed and Bonzo were looking all over for her. She was missing just about every aspect of the party, and decided to go to her rouse and look for her. Zed eventually found her inside the closet. “Bonzo! I found her!”

“Go away Zed, I’m not in the mood for a party,” she said, curling up.

“Maybe someone should have told the rest of Zombietown,” he said, sitting next to her. 

“I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to eat a brain in front of everyone in some dirty old coverall that I burn at midnight,” she said into her knees as Bonzo found them and sat down next to Eliza. “It’s a cruel ritual. You see what happens to all those zombie kids...you saw Bonzo. Bonzo...we heard your scream.”

He sighed and then started speaking. “Guhrik kaipz szragiz greak, za… zibagra kuhzar zezziraskizuh.”  _ The pain was unimaginable, yes, but I know now why it’s necessary.  _

“Nothing that painful can be necessary,” she said. 

“Guzorizakir…gazoguzorizakir agra zorskuhz grizziksa graikizar krazzisk. Guzorizakir groz Gazgz-Zir orgirzaskur grizziskik.”

“What?” Eliza looked up, seeing if he was going to change his answer now that she was looking at him, but he looked solemnly, nodding slowly.  _ Curiosity, it removed my curiosity for eating brains. The curiosity I felt when we removed our Z-Bands to get updates.  _ “You really got rid of all of it?” He nodded. “Did you test it out?”

“Gazgz-Zir orgirzaskur grizziskik zask greez…” 

“The updates last week? You could tell already?” Zed asked. His and Eliza’s Z-Bands were still the starter ones, with electromagnetic pulses that went at a steady pace rather than adjusting to their heartbeats. It also didn’t have a screen, just three lights —green, orange, and red— to tell what their status was. Of course Eliza was getting the more advanced Z-Band today, that would adjust to her heartbeat and emotional state to keep her more steady. 

“Za.”

“Damn, so my mom wasn’t talking out of her ass when she said it was necessary…” Eliza said. “I was hoping she was.” 

“E…” Zed put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re not alone. Mine’s next month, so I know how you’re feeling right this second. But...can I try something to cheer you up?”

“What would you do to cheer me up right now?” Eliza asked, looking at him unamused. In response, he and Bonzo just held up large gift bags that Eliza hadn’t noticed they tucked into their sides when they sat with her. “Okay...gifts are not a bad way to start off. Show me what you’ve got boys,” she said, cracking a light smile. 

Bonzo handed his first and she frowned, looking at it in the bag before she pulled it out, and audibly gasped. “B...is this?”

“Zskeegasg krizkaski!”

She laughed and looked at it. “A rainbow comforter set, so future girls know how gay I am when I take them to my room?” Bonzo shrugged in mock-innocence and she laughed, hugging the comforter before hugging him tightly. “It’s perfect. I love it.”

“You want help putting it on?” Zed asked. “Bonzo and I may not be the best at keeping clean and orderly, but the three of us make a good team…”

Eliza smiled and got up, tossing the pillows at them so they could start changing those while she got rid of her quilt, shoving it in her closet before putting the comforter on. The boys got up and adjusted the pillows and throw blanket she usually had on her bed in a particular order. “Okay, this is pretty much what this room needed to make it look less...depressing. All the colors I need to send all boys running away.” The two looked at her. “Oh shut up, you guys know you’re the exceptions!”

“Okay, well, want my gift?” Zed asked, looking out the window and seeing the sky start to darken. It would be time soon. She nodded and he handed her the bag, and she pulled out-

“Zed...did you build me a laptop?!” 

“Well, you’re always complaining about sharing the family computer when you want to get your coding done, and since there’s like a new model of computers out for humans every other month of something, it feels, The hardware in the computer is pretty recent, but those new laptops have shitty exteriors so they were all broken. So I used some of the old tiny TVs for the screen, and shaped the metal around all of this, and voila. Laptop for Eliza. And, the best part is whenever there’s a new update to the computers, I can easily pop the bottom open, swap out the updated hardware, and it’ll run like a new computer.”

“I can code for hours on this thing,” she said, examining it and opening it up. “The software tweaking I could do on this so that it runs even better than the humans could dream of having…” she gently put the laptop on the bed and tackled him in a hug. “I love it!”

“I can tell from the premature football practice you’re giving me,” he said with a laugh, right as Eliza’s mother opened the door. 

“Don’t tell me, mom…”

“It won’t last as long as you think,” she said. “And we’re all going to be out there supporting you. 

********************

Eliza hated the eyes on her. She wanted to gouge them all out, and that was before her old Z-Band was removed. She was wearing baggy, uncustomized coveralls on a platform while her mother moved the plate in front of her and gave her another kiss on the cheek before removing her Z-Band. 

She could feel her thoughts simplifying, going from the complex anxieties to  _ Food.  _ She looked around for food. There was no food. There was a brain. Did she want brains as food? Some part deep inside of her finally came out.  _ Brains used to be food. I’m hungry, and only brain here.  _ So she took it and started tearing into it. About halfway through she got a name in her head, Thiago Morelia. 

Then suddenly she wasn’t Eliza, she was Thiago. She was six year old Thiago holding hands with a boy, painting his nails, watching Barbie movies and dancing along and singing at the top of his lungs. She was ten year old Thiago, who went to Boy Scouts camp and looked over at a pretty boy. The pretty boy wanted to kiss Thiago, and Thiago wanted to kiss back, so they did. She was thirteen year old Thiago, packing his backpack through tears as he heard all the horrible words being thrown at him by his family. Fourteen year old Thiago stealing food from good trucks, fifteen year old Thiago attempting to repair his sleeping bag with a sewing needle and dental floss. Finally, she was seventeen year old Thiago, having run into the wrong man too many times and owing him too much money for ‘favors,’ and Eliza felt the knife in her gut, then the knife at her throat, and she felt herself fall over as everything went black but her body tried to expand outward. She saw the giant lobster-bear monster with barbed spikes all over its body land on her, and she felt each of those pinpricks stab into her.

And then she saw light again, the sun just finishing setting and Zed carrying her in his arms all the way to her house. She looked up and saw his worried face, and just put her arms around him, hugging him tightly. He squeezed her a little tighter and took her to her couch. “Just the coverall burning, and then you can go to bed for good,” he said. “Sleep in as much as you want.” 

“Zed?” She asked weakly. 

“Yeah?” 

“Stay over tonight? You and Bonzo? I...I don’t want to be alone.” 

“He’s helping clean up outside. You know how useful his strength is to them. But I’ll tell him about the sleepover,” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket, but still having Eliza in his lap. “And I’ll tell my dad while I’m at it too.”

* * *

If Eliza’s approach was to hide from her Zombashera, Zed’s approach was the opposite at his Zombashihro. He woke up as early as he could to play every single game and activity out there. He mingled with everyone he saw, actively avoiding looking towards the middle of the street, and even playing football and basketball with several other kids across some backyards. 

Eliza and Bonzo watched him, knowing their friend well, and each of his unhealthy coping mechanisms and exchanged a glance. “You’re gonna make me talk to him, aren’t you?”

“Za,” he said. “Zedka eggruza agro zuhkuh.”

“Yeah, because he’s smart enough to listen to me,” she said. “Even if he acts like an idiot most of the time.” She sighed and got up, going to him when he went to a table to get some drinks. “Hey Zed, ready for a talk?”

“I mean, I thought I was gonna join a couple of the other guys here for dodgeball…”

“Zed, you haven’t stopped moving since nine this morning. Relax, sit down.” 

“Eliza, I’m fine,” he said. “I’m just having fun.”

“No, you’re wearing yourself down, which won’t do you any good,” she said. “Besides, don’t you think we know you better than that?”

He sighed, stiffening up. “I just don’t want to think about it, okay? Look, I know I’ll be fine after, I’ve seen you two, but I also know that you still have nightmares Ez, and Bonzo still flinches at loud noises. Is it that bad that I want to avoid thinking about what I will have to go through as long as possible?”

She looked down. “You do need to mentally prepare yourself though,” she said. “Going in blind...it won’t be good.”

He sighed and looked at the sky. “There’s two hours before sundown. Is half an hour enough time to prepare?”

“Forty-five minutes.”

“Deal,” he said. 

“Then...how about Bonzo and I finally show you what we got for you? We never got to give you your essence gifts, and I’ll admit, it was really hard to one-up what you got me for my Zombashera.”

He laughed. “I know, but I also know you love a good challenge.” 

“And I think I undertook it,” she said, taking his hand and all but dragging him back to his house. 

“Are both of my gifts there?” He asked, looking between her and Bonzo. 

“Za, gruhgzer skiza gigar.”

“Of course my dad let you in. At this point I’m just surprised he didn’t make you guys keys to our house already.” He walked through the door and was immediately dragged upstairs to his room. “Wow, you two have no boundaries, do you?” He joked and he was shoved to sit down on his bed. 

“Bonzo, would you do the honors?”

“Za!” He agreed and went to Zed’s closet and opened it. Originally, Zed had a few coveralls that he customized a little by cuffing the legs, cutting off an arm, and adding a stylized Z for his name, but not much else. When Bonzo showed off his work, Zed was awed. 

“No way!” He lept up and inspected it. Bonzo had used the coveralls to create a whole wardrobe, making it look almost like the non-government issued clothes humans were allowed to wear. And he still somehow did that while keeping zed’s signatures of cuffed pants, one sleeve, off, and the Z, including several jackets where he used undershirt sleeves in layers so Zed could have a jacket without compromising his unique look. “A whole wardrobe?!”

“Zegga grizuhrk gruhzagro...kraz agerzuhrags…” 

“With room to grow and minor alterations? Bonzo, you really are an artistic genius! I’m gonna have epic style no matter how ugly the government wants our clothes to look!” He laughed, taking the jacket and trying it on. “Like a glove.” 

Bonzo smiled and hugged him tightly, then did a dramatic bow and gestured to Eliza. “Are the stakes raised enough?” She asked. 

“Perhaps. What do you have?” He challenged lightly. 

“Close your eyes.” He looked at her warily, but with one glare from her, he decided it was in his best interest to follow her instructions and closed his eyes. He felt something go over his eyes and then she placed two metal cylinders in his hands. “Alright, open.”

When he did, he wasn’t in his room anymore. He was in the Charger’s football field, and when he looked down, it looked like he was wearing their uniform. “E...what am I looking at?!”

“Virtual reality football,” she said. “Play against whoever, whenever, as whichever team, and bring your fantasy football dreams to life! I uploaded the stats of each football player from the past and present, and set up an algorithm that keeps updating their stats and automatically adds any new players that might get drafted, so basically it’s a huge “what if these players I like played together?” And it all runs from this little reformatted Kindle tablet some human through away. Just keep it plugged into the wall and charged, and your wireless headset and hand controls should work. 

“This is seriously amazing!” He said, jumping a little, excitedly. 

“The computer you made actually helped me create this,” she smiled. “Happy Birthday Zed.” 

“So...your gift would be impossible without my gift?” He asked cockily. “I think I won.” He laughed, even as Eliza punched him hard in the arm. 

********************

Zed was shaking slightly on the platform, looking around the crowd gathered around him to see him do probably the grossest act any zombie does in their lifetimes. He felt weird, exposed, but he met Bonzo and Eliza’s eyes and they tried to give him as best of a reassuring smile as they could, and he gave them a nod. Eliza shifted Zoey on her hip, rocking her gently. Then Zed looked over to see his dad on the platform with him, reaching out for his Z-Band. 

“Are you ready son?” He asked quietly. “It’s okay if you need another minute.”

“No...no I’m ready,” he said, looking up at him. “The sooner I do this, the sooner it ends, right?”

“And the sooner you never have to do it again.” 

Zed didn’t look as the brain was placed in front of him, keeping eye contact with his dad as he heard the the clip of the Z-Band unfasten and his the rush of adrenaline rush to his brain. He didn’t have fears anymore. He only felt hunger, deep hunger, and a soft voice in the back of his mind…his dad’s voice...telling him to eat. He growled and saw the brain, taking it and tearing into it. 

Amanda Davis. He was Amanda Davis now, a dancer who trained every second of her life. He felt the top of her toes blister, his muscles sprain over and over again, a slight dizziness in her head. He felt the wind beneath her feet at each jump, the rush in her ears with each pirouette, a grand jete-

A devastating fall, a broken leg, a dream ended. He felt the depression inside the high school French class, he felt the deep despair as the doctor said something to her and her mom. He felt the clumps of her hair fall out each time she ran her fingers through her hair. The nausea, the burning feeling in the veins, the lack of wanting anything but sitting in bed and staring at a single empty spot on the wall. He felt each needle pierce her skin, each chemical enter her body, he felt her heart slowing down, slowly giving out...the lungs collapsing within itself…

Then he saw the seven headed snake twisting around him. It looked like it was seven stories high and two hundred miles wide, and it was using all of its strength on Zed’s small, frail body, squeezing every inch of life out of him, the seven heads ready to tear into him like he tore into the brain. He felt the black collapsing into him as his body tried to expand out of his skin…

“Zedka!” 

Zed slowly opened his eyes to see the setting sun and Bonzo right in front of him, trying to hold him up. “Zedka, agro druhk za,” he said reassuringly. Zed looked up at Bonzo’s face, saw his dad holding his little sister behind his friend, felt Eliza standing by his side, and before he could even process anything more, he doubled over and threw up everything he had inside of him all over Bonzo’s shoes. 

“Hey, hey, Zed,” Eliza stroked back his hair. “You’re okay...you’re okay.” When he was done, she flung one of his arms over her shoulders and Bonzo took the other side and they walked him back home and the two of them carried him up to his bedroom. 

“S..sorry about throwing up on you B…”

“Za druhk ziggka,” he shrugged. Not a problem. Though he was taking off his shoes and pants and borrowing one of Zed’s old ones. 

“How do you feel?” Eliza asked. 

“Like I threw up everything from the past week except the brain,” he said. “It feels like the whole thing is just sitting in my stomach.”

“I know that feeling, minus the throwing up,” she said. “B too. But you did it...new Z-Band and everything.”

“I feel like what I covered Bonzo’s shoes in.” The two let out a little chuckle. “In all honesty, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stand at the burning.”

“Then don’t,” she said. “Let’s get this gross thing off of you,” she said. “Bonzo, pants.” He nodded and got up, looking for a pair of new pants and shoes for Zed while Eliza started undoing his coverall. 

“Wow, if I didn’t know you were gay…” he weakly joked, and she weakly whacked his arm. 

“You’re weak, I’m helping you get pants on, then water and dry crackers while we hold you up for the final event of the night.”

“Zkags gizghks?” Bonzo asked. 

“Yeah...if you two wouldn’t mind staying the night?” He asked weakly. 

“You did for me,” she said, getting the coverall off oh him, leaving him in his undershirt while helping get his pants on. “And I’m pretty sure I remember you helping me with the dressing part too.”

“That was totally me selfishly trying to feel up a girl for the first time,” he joked, clearly not meaning it, and Eliza knew, but it didn’t save him from the whack. Bonzo left and came back with water and crackers while Eliza helped him sit up to eat. 

“So…” she said. “Who was your person?” 

“What?” 

“When you ate. Who were you? I was Thiago Morelia, Brazilian gay teenager kicked out by his parents and dying homeless at fifteen,” she said. 

“Guzak Griiz,” Bonzo said. “Grazziskuhg, zuska graski arzkikzergs.”  _ Jason Green. Grandfather, lost wife to Alzheimer’s. _

“Oh...oh uh…Amanda Davis,” he said. “Twenty-two year old ballerina who got bone marrow cancer.” 

“Oh, that’s rough,” she said. “Did you get anything happy? We got a little happy.”

“When she was dancing...it felt like...the way I feel when I dance. Absolutely free. Maybe I’ll dance when I feel better.” 

“That’s a good idea,” she said. “I’ll join you, we can practice for hosting the Mash.” Zed smiled and faintly heard his dad call the three of them for the burning. “Well, need help still?” 

“Yeah…” he said. “Hey...you guys are the greatest friends a guy could have.”

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Eliza said. The two of them helped carry Zed out to the bonfire, holding onto him as he threw his ruined, vomit covered coverall into the fire, watching it burn. 

He saw the fabric shrivel up as it burned, and he imagined all of his feelings going with it, but his hopes for the future somehow burning brighter. He couldn’t explain why he had a good feeling about the future, but he wasn’t going to question it. 


End file.
